


Up the Ante (REVISED)

by ActualHurry



Series: Letters from a Renegade: Epilogue [7]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Except for the banging, First Kiss, Intimacy kink ;), Lore Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 18:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18481846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActualHurry/pseuds/ActualHurry
Summary: Shin hangs around. The Drifter tries to keep life typical despite it.(Set after the quest, "The Draw.")---Revised version, compliant with Joker's Wild lore. Original version is still available in series.





	Up the Ante (REVISED)

**Author's Note:**

> Added some conversation. Changed a few lines. Whee!

“Don’tcha…y’know...got somethin’ else to do?” Drifter asked.

Shin didn’t bother sparing him a glance. “You want me to leave?”

Drifter made a noise under his breath, turning back to his worktable. “Don’t make a mess outta my stuff.”

As if it could get any messier than it already was. Shin continued to sift through all the gun mods that Drifter had stashed in his alley. The amount of storage crates he had back here boded well for Shin’s goal of decking out another gun for himself. He didn’t want it to be something special. The Last Word couldn’t be disrespected in that way. Still; if Shaxx was going to call him into the Crucible sometime, he needed something reliable.

A couple of days had passed since Drifter had allowed their little chat. Shin had started out his trek through honesty with an explanation of the original plan for the Renegade: to keep tabs on Drifter (out of caution) while aiding in setting up Gambit (out of hope). The Red War had instilled a new breed of fear in the Guardians who remained after the dust had settled and the Light had returned – and while he let it stay unsaid, the eternal war of Light and Darkness demanded these Guardians’ evolution.

Shin’d then told him of Shaxx’s involvement as his contact. It seemed to be no surprise to Drifter, who’d only scoffed and muttered a quiet, _Figures_. These days, the Vanguard wanted nothing to do with his Shadow hunt. He told Drifter that, too. That alone at least seemed to take him off-guard.

Shin caught himself thinking about just how little Drifter really knew about him. How many myths and legends and shadows clouded his perception of him...all of him, every iteration. The way Drifter still glanced at him every so often made Shin feel certain that his distrust wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

And to think, Shin had even tried to convince Drifter that he’d never been his target. A person-of-interest...a particular kind of interest, yes.

But _target_? Shin snorted as he dug up a counterbalance mod.

“What?” Drifter snapped at him.

Shin side-eyed him. “Nothin’.” He took out the hand cannon he’d pulled from his Vault and started applying the mod, making whatever changes that suited him. Hipfire grip at the cost of a backup modification, weigh the gun out differently, wasn’t quite right yet…

Before Drifter could fling his screwdriver in his direction, the gate rattled to signal a Guardian’s arrival. Drifter turned to talk to them – a Warlock, dressed in reds and golds. Shin had just enough of an angle to spot a smile, amicable and welcoming, as it appeared on Drifter’s face like a switch flipping.

Something about the ease of it frustrated Shin to no end. Maybe because Drifter’d been nothing but a cranky asshole to him, when before Shin had experienced that same charisma. Now all he got was a scowl, and that was if he was lucky. Mostly, it seemed Drifter tried not to pay him attention, even if all Shin could notice sometimes was how Drifter couldn’t _stop_ paying attention to him, a double-edged side effect of that constant suspicion.

It hurt, having finally been on Drifter’s good side...only for the privilege to be snatched away.

“Double motes, promise you that,” Drifter was saying to the Warlock. Shin watched him out of his peripheral, the motion of his hand waving indulgently and then – resting that hand on the Warlock’s shoulder. “I don’t make this offer to just anybody, friend. Tell you what, you go and handle this lil problem for me, I cover you next match.”

The Warlock leaned in to hear the details of whatever fool’s errand Drifter was sending him on, Drifter’s smooth purr going low as his mouth went close to the Warlock’s ear.

The back of Shin’s neck burned. He’d been roped in before, been wrapped around the idea of gunsmoke and honey, hopes and follies. Yet here he was again, on the devil’s doorstep, aching to have the weight of that hand on him. Hell, he’d settle for the snake smile, even if he yearned for something more.

Shin looked at Drifter’s worktable, the tools all lined up there. He looked briefly at Malfeasance, then instead plucked the screwdriver up and away. He tucked it into his belt and went right back to his own work.

“Be seein’ you,” Drifter called after the Warlock. He gave Shin a look. Then, with something that Shin could almost pin as uncertainty, he asked, “You’re really gonna hang around all day?”

“Come up with somethin’ for me to do,” Shin said. “I’ll go do it.”

Drifter seemed to actually give it a moment’s thought, raking his gaze over him like he could think of quite a few things for Shin to do. If he came up with anything remotely interesting, he didn’t bother to mention it. He looked down at his worktable, then paused, searching.

He focused on Shin again, his face carefully composed in a mask of something less rattled.

“Cough it up, _partner_ ,” Drifter said. He leaned against his table, hand pressed flat atop it. He could grab Malfeasance any time he liked, but if he really drew that infernal piece on Shin over a borrowed screwdriver, Shin would never let him live it down.

“Quick to throw the blame my way.” Shin stood up, his cloak falling just right over his side where the screwdriver was hiding.

“What, you gonna tell me it grew legs?”

“Would you believe me?”

Drifter sneered and took a step towards him. Shin didn’t budge. Slowly he reached down to his belt, watching Drifter’s posture coil tighter and tighter, as if Shin was about to pull a knife on him instead. He almost told him to relax, but had a feeling that’d just make the whole thing worse.

“See?” Shin added, showing him the screwdriver. He flipped it in the air once, catching it just as expertly.

Now faced with proof that Shin (probably) wasn’t about to stab him in the ribs, Drifter glared and stepped closer once more. “The hell did you even need it for?” he asked, within reach now. “That ain’t for mod configuration.”

“Just felt like takin’ it.” Shin twirled the screwdriver between his fingers, then played keep-away as Drifter lunged for it. “Hunter’s instinct.”

“Classes are a crock of shit.”

Drifter grabbed his wrist to keep him from pulling back any farther and Shin interrupted his snarl with a kiss, clumsy and quick. He was better at aiming with a gun; his lips hit the corner of Drifter’s mouth first before he fixed the angle. For a split second, Drifter went taut against him, left Shin at a loss for how to deal with another rejection, and then he was kissing him back and relief overtook whatever tension remained in Shin’s body. He let his free hand slip to Drifter’s side, not grabbing as much as he was holding him there while he teased with his tongue.

Maybe it was the touch that did it, or maybe the moment simply lasted too long, but Drifter didn’t let it stay soft. His teeth closed on Shin’s lip and Shin yanked himself back out of surprise; Drifter chased him, kissed him with brutal desire, hot and insistent and angry.

Shin knew the feeling. If that was where this was going, so be it. He didn’t mind letting himself get swallowed up in the flames.

Digging his fingers into Drifter’s robes again, he bit him back, licked into his mouth when those lips parted and got a growl for his trouble. Drifter shoved him away one step after another. He never let go of his wrist, so Shin pulled him along with him.

When Shin’s shoulders hit the solid wall behind him, he dropped the screwdriver, heard it roll away. Drifter didn’t so much as glance for it. Drifter got his leg between both of his and Shin’s head thunked into the wall as he groaned, Drifter’s grip tightening on his wrist and Drifter’s body pressing warm and hard along every eager line of his own.

“This what you wanted so bad from me?” Drifter breathed against his lips. The words were harsh but the grind of his hips was nothing but smooth. “I make you feel _good_. That’s why you won’t leave me alone, huh?”

Didn’t really feel like the time for a conversation, so Shin didn’t make it one. He leaned into the wall for support, tipped his head back and gave into it. Drifter made a noise, pinned his wrist, used his other hand to pull his cloak off and get at his throat and oh, _oh_ , Shin let him. He hissed as Drifter dug teeth into his neck, shivered when he bit the tender spot underneath his ear – all the while the heat built between them as the friction climbed higher, faster.

Shin’s breath hitched when he caught a moan before it slipped out. He held tighter on Drifter’s hip, urging him on, pulling at him –

“ _Hey_ –” Drifter grabbed Shin’s face, mostly across his mouth, but his thumb pressed firm beneath his chin, resting nearly too hard against his throat. Unmoving, Shin stared at him, took in the flushed cheeks, wide pupils. The clenched teeth and tense jaw. “Hands to yourself this time. Shin.”

Shin’s mouth was half-smushed under Drifter’s fingers, words a non-option. He lifted his hand from Drifter’s hip carefully, lightly, his palm up to show goodwill and his heart hammering. He saw the little flash of _something_ cross Drifter’s face. Relief, maybe.

Hell. Shin wasn’t about to kill him right now of all times. Legends liked to get their rocks off just as much as the next guy, especially when it’d been so _long_ and he’d wanted so _badly_.

Drifter slid his hand down to Shin’s throat, and if nothing else, it got his attention. Though his hold stayed loose, it keyed Shin right up.

Shin swallowed to feel out the pressure around his neck. “Wanna take this back to the Derelict?” he suggested, keeping his voice as low as possible to avoid sounding as desperate as he felt.

“No,” Drifter said easily, and let go of him entirely to start disrobing on the spot.

“Don’t want me up there?” Shin guessed, taking off his gloves. His wrist tingled where Drifter had been holding on so tightly, but he paid it no mind. His clothes were too much right now.

“‘Course not,” Drifter scoffed. He tossed his necklace to the floor. “You’re a fuckin’ psycho.”

They tumbled onto the mattress finally – or Shin dropped down onto it and Drifter followed, pressing him to the thin sheets and kissing (biting) Shin until he couldn’t catch his breath. Shin gave as good as he got, eyes squeezing shut when Drifter finally wrapped fingers around his cock and stroked him. His sound of pleasure was muffled into Drifter’s mouth, his hands left grasping at the sheets as much as he’d prefer to be grabbing just about anywhere else.

He had something to prove, regardless of the context – if Drifter was going to believe that Shin had some ill fate left for him, Shin needed to prove him wrong. Again. And again. And again.

Shin jerked as Drifter bit his shoulder, heat pooling in his stomach fast even as Shin missed his mouth on his. “Where’s the lube?” he asked breathlessly.

“You should know,” Drifter muttered in his ear before he nipped at him.

Shin panted, arched his hips and made up his mind. He propped himself up on his elbows and went fishing for the bottle between the mattress and the wall. When he found it, he practically threw it at Drifter. Then he spread his legs.

“You’re so predictable,” Shin told him, impatient.

He might as well’ve slapped Drifter for how offended he looked, but then there was a slick finger sliding into him and Shin full-body shivered at the feeling, enjoyed the easy stretch and the rhythm Drifter set. He already knew what he liked. The reminder set Shin on fire all over again.

A second finger joined the first, just as Shin was about to demand something more. His spine wound up tight and he shut his eyes, and suddenly couldn’t breathe with Drifter’s mouth over his own again, stealing the air from his lungs with every movement of his fingers, every hint of teeth on his lip. Shin hadn’t imagined Drifter as a kisser, not once in any of his wildest dreams, but he couldn’t say he minded it. Not when Drifter was giving him what he wanted, even if it was all wrong, turned on its head, not the kinda reunion he’d beg for.

Drifter fucked him open like that, kissing him breathless, biting him in the meantime, only leaning back every so often to give Shin enough space to gasp and groan. He seemed to take some measure of calculated enjoyment in the wanton nature of it all, seemed to be taking his time, watching...

Like he was seeing him for the first time.

Arousal shot through Shin like a bullet and he squirmed, managed to say, “I’m fine, fuck me,” while trying to turn over.

“Hey, now. What d’you think you’re doing?” Drifter asked, pressing his hand down on his chest to keep him flat on his back. He ran his gaze up and down Shin’s body. Shin burned from the fever in his eyes. “Kinda figured you’d get shy eventually. Guess you played the Renegade a little too long, huh?” He patted Shin’s chest. “Now, why don’t you stay just like this.”

“You sentimental or somethin’?”

Drifter crooked his fingers up inside him. “Or somethin’,” he purred while Shin fought to catch his breath.

Shin could play, too. “Lemme touch you then.”

Drifter thought about it. Pulled his fingers out of Shin and slowly stroked his cock to get himself slick. Shin was almost distracted enough by it to forget he’d tried to broker a deal.

“Alright,” Drifter allowed. “If you want to so bad, I ain’t about to stop you.”

Shin stayed on his back, nape of his neck prickling with warmth as Drifter lined himself up and pressed inside. The stretch was so much better than fingers alone and, true to his word, Shin reached up behind Drifter’s shoulders to hang on as he bottomed out.

Braced over him, Drifter never once looked away from Shin’s face.

“C’mon,” Shin said, already short of breath.

The singular, momentary lapse of rough edges lasted no longer than it had earlier, when they’d only been kissing. Drifter rocked his hips in once, twice, and then harder, until Shin was left wrapping his legs around his waist and pressing his forehead against him as Drifter bowed low, got their bodies flush as best as he could. Chasing the height of his bliss, Shin reached between them to get a hand on himself, sweat beading on his skin and need like an ache in his veins.

It was a fast-paced, messy fuck, but Shin hadn’t claimed aloud to want anything else. This was the closest he was going to get to a dream – it was Drifter grabbing tight around his hips, skin against skin, sweat on sweat, air blisteringly hot around their bodies and lacking in his lungs, both their gasps synchronized and strangled.

Drifter surprised him with a rough kiss, leaned over him in a way that made Shin arch to meet him and _oh_ , that fucking angle hit him like a suckerpunch, muscles taut as a bowstring as he came wet all over his own stomach and chest.

“Fuck you,” he choked out against Drifter’s mouth, then felt him laugh in reply.

Drifter sealed their lips together again and shivered hard, following Shin into an orgasm. Shin would’ve been flattered, if not for the fact that he was certain Drifter only kissed him to keep Shin from hearing him moan.

Shin’s lungs hurt. His body ached. He took his time remembering how to breathe again, then pushed Drifter off of him so that he wasn’t crushed under him when he inevitably collapsed. Drifter rolled onto his side next to him.

Shin expected a glare, but when he looked over, Drifter was watching him in silence, nothing hostile to be found in his expression... but nothing else either. Shin couldn’t get a read on him.

“What?” he asked, bristling first because of the staring, and second because of how raw his voice sounded to his own ears.

“Just...” Drifter tilted his head slightly and gestured at Shin. “Never heard any stories about the awe-inspirin’ hero, Shin Malphur, gettin’ done in by a good roll between the sheets.”

“Makes me wonder what sorta stories are floatin’ around,” Shin said slowly.

“Nothin’ as juicy as the real thing.” Drifter grinned, mockery written in the cut of his teeth.

“Careful, don’t believe everything you hear.”

Drifter snorted. “You’re tellin’ me.”

There was a not-exactly-companionable silence that fell between them then. Shin looked at him like he’d look at a real thin line he was about to tread, because the alternative was giving away everything in a single, too tender glance.

“Listen,” Drifter said, propping himself up on his side. “You wanna stick around...I wanna set some boundaries.”

Shin’s breath caught funny, nervously. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Drifter said, too agreeably. “Quit huntin’.”

 _Is that all?_ Shin thought. “...Where? Earth?”

“Everywhere. You’re takin’ out my business, y’know. Heard about Callum and the few Dredgens that’d ended up followin’ him. Takin’ their titles I gave ‘em a bit too serious.” Drifter clicked his tongue. “At least quit huntin’ in this system.”

Shin was too relieved, too blissed out, to say anything but, “Okay.”

Drifter gave him a strange frown, but didn’t question the ease of the agreement. As Shin wiped himself down and pulled his pants on again (the weight of Drifter’s eyes never leaving him all the while) he did two things.

One – he could feel the telltale itch, a wetness threatening to drip from his earlobe. He kept his hair messy over his ears so he could wipe the blood off unseen. That was a conversation for another day. A confession for another life, maybe.

Two – he stole Drifter’s necklace off the floor and tucked it into his boot.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, as always. :)


End file.
